


It's Always a Good Time

by Daxii



Category: Free!
Genre: Cuddles, I only write free, M/M, Reunion promt, Surprise Party, i dont understand what happened at the end, kinda the cutest intro, mentions of past rinharu, then this really agsty middle bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4477205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/pseuds/Daxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Makoto and Haru travel back from Tokyo for their ten year middle school reunion. Of course, they have to reconnect with Kisumi, and somehow during the trip Haru becomes closer with the strawberry menace than he ever remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always a Good Time

Haru highly doubts that all men look this damn pleased when they walk into their bedroom to find their best friend spooning their heavily pregnant wife while she naps. He imagines there’d be some shouting, maybe a fist thrown, and basically everything opposite to Makoto’s soft smile as he tiptoes in and sits on the bed.

“What did my two favourite girls do today, then?” he asks, careful not to wake his wife, directing his question at her blooming bump and knowing full well that that little smile on Haru’s face means he’s going to slip right into the voice of “baby”.

Haru rubs lightly with the hand he has on her stomach. “Uncle Haru took us shopping and I got a new dress, then we had Italian for lunch, Mummy cried at a film, and we’ve been napping since,” he says in a voice far too soft, with a smile far too wide.

“He spoils you two too much!” Makoto’s sigh is exaggerated to a point where Haru knows he’s not even really going to argue any more.

“That’s just ‘cause he’s the best God-Daddy in the world,” he gives Yuri a little squeeze and lets up, and forces his face and voice to return to normal. “Do you want to take over and I’ll make dinner?”

“Nah, I brought take out. Got some news you might be interested in. I’ll shower and you plate up?”

Haru’s eyebrows have furrowed in suspicion, but he nods, sitting up and gently rousing Yuri with a pat of the arm. “Dinner in a few,” he says, back to soft and gentle as he helps her sit up. “Juice?”

“Juice,” she agrees with a sleepy nod, resting her head on Makoto’s shoulder for a quick hug before they get going.

Haru totters into the kitchen like the house is his own, finding the plates and utensils and getting Yuri’s juice even easier than Makoto might (given that they’d pretty much forbidden all access except the sink). She waddles into the kitchen a moment later and pulls up a seat, sitting with a heavy breath and an appreciative nod for the drink. 

“If he says it’s another interview…” Haru grumbles, coming up behind to rub her shoulders.

“He wouldn’t… not if you blow up with me here.”

“But he knows I _won’t_ blow up with you here… it feels like a trap.”

“It’s not a trap!”

“Really? Really, are you _sure?_ ”

No, she’s not. He knows she’s not, but kisses the top of her head anyway and goes to serve up the food before Makoto comes down, setting the plates just as he takes his seat.

It’s a trap. He can tell just in the way Makoto tilts his head towards him as he holds the food on his spoon at a precarious angle, and Haru just stops dead around his mouthful and narrows his eyes.

“So I got an email through today…” he starts, expertly ignoring Yuri’s giggle as Haru all but drops his chopsticks. “Guess what’s happening in a couple of weeks?”

Haru darts an eye to Yuri, but they still have six weeks to go, so it’s not _that_ , and they’re on down time before the Olympics, with just basic training and all the hoo-ha to deal with for the next month. It’ll be some photo shoot for a sponsor, or an interview with a Sports station.

“Our middle school class is having a reunion!”

“I knew it was a trap,” Haru hisses towards Yuri (who just seems to be giggling incessantly at this point), and otherwise tries to completely block out what Makoto’s just said.

But he can’t. Makoto can stare at the side of Haru’s face while he tries to desperately look away for an inordinate amount of time until finally, when he literally can’t take a second more of the silence (and Yuri’s quiet little snorts to herself), he caves blinking up in a smooth, considered movement, like he actually knows what he’s doing.

“It’s too short notice. We can’t go. The baby.”

“Which is _exactly_ why you need to go for the both of us,” Makoto smiles. Haru suspects he’s been practicing that line all day, because it was most definitely intended to completely silence Haru just the way it has.

“But training…” he argues, uselessly, knowing full well that this will be a weekend event and that Makoto won’t let him in the pool anyway. All this crap about _rest days_. Haru doesn’t need rest. He just needs to swim.

(Which is what he told himself when he ended up with a dicked up hamstring for a month, but this time is _different_.)

Makoto just smirks. Haru’s already lost. He makes one final, pleading look to Yuri, but she just gives him a patronising pat on the shoulder.

“Maybe the gift shop will have a little onesie with your face on it for Haruka!”

And all of Haru’s arguments just crumble to the floor, along with his face to the table, as they tag team him into submission once again.

“Got used to that yet? The name?”

Haru has, sort of, he’s gotten over the straight up _weirdness_ of it anyway, but that little bubble of pride? Nope. Can he control that smile that’s completely ruining his last remains of a defiant pout? Nope.

So he goes with the only counter he has left, and it’s not even a counter, just his own personal form of payback that benefits absolutely everyone except the space remaining in Makoto’s half of the wardrobe. “I’m taking Yuri shopping tomorrow.”

“Har _uuuu_ ,” Makoto whines, just as expected. “You spend more on our _cat_ than you do on _yourself!”_

“I spend more on the cat than on you, too, actually,” Haru interrupts. He’s had this lecture a thousand times, but he really just doesn’t care. It’s only money, and he’s come into far more than he’ll ever need with his winnings and sponsorships.

“But think of what else you could buy! Finish your driving lessons… get a proper place… you could go and see Rin in Australia!”

“I don’t _want_ to see Rin,” he lies.

Makoto knows it, and just sighs. “You know, Kisumi will be at this thing…”

All the combined weight of the conversation comes back around full circle to hit Haru in the face like a fat mackerel.

 _Everyone_ will be at this thing. And _everyone’s_ going to talk to him. Everyone’s going to ask him questions about the last Olympics, the coming Olympics and worst of all… his very public relationship and very, _very_ public break up with Rin (despite how amicable they may be three years down the line). And he won’t have Makoto as a buffer.

Somehow, despite the usual dread that dealing with the literal embodiment of overzealous energy usually brings him, Kisumi isn’t sounding like the scariest part of the ordeal. In fact, he can almost say he’s missed him. Their online conversations are sporadic and irregular and primarily consists of cat videos and an overuse of emojis (all thanks to Kisumi), but at least Haru _knows_ him. Everyone else is barely a blur.

 

Haru lays with his head lolling about as uselessly as the rest of his body feels in Yuri’s lap, Makoto smiling over in his armchair, picture of innocence. 

“What did you _do_ to him?!” she asks, petting Haru’s hair as he just looks up at her with the most pained, miserable expression he can manage.

“Oh please. He’s just being a baby,” Makoto rolls his eyes, but Haru’s pout increases. Makoto can pull off the good-coach bad-coach act all by himself if he wants to.

“It was _torture_. I’m training for the _Olympics_ , not a suicidal army run!” he turns his face towards Yuri’s stomach. “Your Daddy is so _mean!_ ”

“We we’re working on his stamina,” Makoto calmly explains. “Can’t have Kisumi wearing you out, can we now?”

Haru just scowls.

“Who is Kisumi?” Yuri finally asks, and Haru’s a little surprised she’s not had this conversation with Makoto at some point this week already, but they’ve all been pretty busy.

“We went to middle school with him. Really fun guy… had a _total_ crush on Haru.”

“Had a total crush on _you_ ,” Haru grunts, still rolled away from Makoto and not even glancing up at Yuri as he slips into a sulk.

“Ah, but he didn’t used to give _me_ licks of his lollipop, did he?”

“Ooh, so this reunion is gonna be like a little date for you two, hmm?” Yuri sounds too hopeful for her own good.

Haru would laugh, if he wasn’t trying to get his point across in his stony silence.

Makoto does his best to interpret. “Maybe not? They might bunk you in a room together, though.”

“Hmm, yeah, can’t have the gays sharing with the other guys. What if we stare at their asses?” Haru’s irritation cuts through the room like a saw.

“I’m not saying for… _that_ , just… you were so close. I’m sure everyone remembers you.”

Yeah. Haru’s pretty sure too, but for now he’s just trying to do his best to stop thinking about the entire thing.

“I was going to offer to do the dishes, but…” Haru feigns further exhaustion, rolling onto his back again with an arm flung over his head.

“No, no. Makoto can do them,” Yuri coos.

“You spoil him as much as he spoils you two,” Makoto sighs, but gets up anyway.

“I don’t _spoil_ them, I just –”

Makoto cuts him off with a sneak-attack tickle of his feet, and Haru curls up completely. “Yeah. You bought us a pushchair with headlights. Not spoiled at _all_ ,” and he rolls his eyes into the next century. Haru fears for the day that baby Haruka discovers sarcasm. He’s not sure he can handle a three pronged assault from this little family. “I’ll do this and then drive you home, yeah? I won’t make you walk. I’m not _that_ mean.”

Haru relaxes into a more pleasant state, reaching up to twirl the ends of Yuri’s long, dark hair as she takes over all conversation for them with a quiet recount of a show she watched while “her boys” (as she calls them) were training.

Makoto returns a short while later, setting his hands on Yuri’s shoulders and ducking in for a kiss, and Haru just smiles up at them, the little mouthed words of love he never mentions he can read because it’s just so sweet, and then accepts Makoto’s hand to help him up.

“I’ll make you sandwiches for your trip tomorrow, I know you doing like aeroplane food,” Yuri promises, and Haru kisses her cheek in quiet thanks.

“I’ll come by in the morning, then. And don’t have the baby while I’m away.” Haru warns, almost genuinely fierce with his tone, but his eyes are so soft.  

“I’d take you if I could…” Makoto sounds genuinely guilty now, but Haru just shrugs it off.

Yuri walks them to the door, giving Makoto a soft kiss on his lips and exchanges more kisses on the cheek with Haru. “Drive safe, boys. Love you.”

“Love you!” they call back.

Haru gives the readily installed car seat in the back of Makoto’s Prius a warm glance as he gets into the passenger seat. Purple, like most of little Haruka’s things are turning out to be, because unfortunately for Makoto, his wife and best friend share the same favourite colour.

“For how you feel about stereotypes, you’re doing a stellar job at the ‘sassy gay best friend’ role,” Makoto comments, his trademark smile full of pride and affection.

Haru just smiles, because he _knows_ , however unintended it might have started out as. Makoto continues.

“I swear you’re closer with her than some of her girl friends. I’m glad… I know you two had a rough start.”

“It wasn’t _that_ rough…” Haru actually thinks he was only _mildly_ irritated with her Makoto-stealing existence in those first few weird months.

“Still. Sometimes I feel like I have two wives.”

“Yeah?” Haru gives him a look from the corner of his eye, brow raised. “Me too.”

 

The seat feels sticky. The blanket is rough. The headphones are crushing his skull. Someone has their knee stabbing into his spine. Haru hates flights. Somehow, after Brazil, Australia, all of Europe, and anywhere else he’s had to compete, the one hour flight feels somehow more traumatic and exhausting. Probably because he can’t zone out and pretend everyone else doesn’t exist. Probably because he can’t sneak off to the bathroom with Rin to pass the time.

Unlike most people, Haru takes the opportunity of a flight to actually turn his phone _on_ , so he can hopefully receive the promised message from Kisumi when he lands, so he at least knows where to aim for. He only has his backpack, and is thankful to be able to just sail through the arrivals lounge and out the door to an overpriced taxi.

Kisumi’s message to meet at the only hotel in town (Haru really should have guessed the venue if he’s being totally honest) comes through first, but a second quickly knocks it down a notch and it takes Haru a minute to actually read it properly, because it really wasn’t expected.

 **Rin - > Haru  
**Visit my dad while you’re in town.

Haru slowly nods as if Rin can actually see him, and almost gives himself whiplash at the shock of _another_ message coming through.

 **Rin - > Haru  
**xx

And Haru can only sigh.

 **Haru - > Rin  
**Always so sentimental.

He entirely intends the second message he sends. He’d have added it into the first, but he always _did_ like the look on Rin’s face when he goes from frowning in irritation to that silly, puppy dog smile.

 **Haru - > Rin**  
x

So the little path running up the cliff on the coast is his first stop. It’s a shame it’s too late in the year for the cherry blossoms, but wild flowers grow on his grave anyway. He doesn’t speak to the grave outloud as Rin would, but he sends a silent apology just for... well. Everything.

 

Despite the function not starting till 7pm, it feels to Haru like pretty much everyone who moved away after high school has managed to meet up in the lobby of the hotel before the 2pm check in time for their paid-for overnight stay, and he feels the group go silent as he heads over to the front desk. Even though there’s just a handful – no more than half a dozen of them – Haru already knows they’re all looking at him. There’s been a book laid out just for their party, assigning rooms to share between two and four people.

And yep, there he is, room 237 with none other than –

“ _Haru!!_ ”

– Kisumi.

He feels one long arm come snaking over his shoulder, a toned torso pressing into his back, and another arm wrapping around his waist. He’s trapped. He’s being squeezed like a mid-afternoon snack for a large constrictor, and turned around so the monster can look him in the eye before it comes down with its grinning mouth to devour him. Haru flinches, looking up into those shimmering violet eyes, and jars his neck looking up at him. Kisumi’s still coming down in this bone crushing embrace.

And then they collide. Lips on lips, nose to nose, heads bumping, and they both groan before parting with a sloppy smack between them. Haru drops his forehead onto Kisumi’s chest in defeat.

“Hello,” he grunts, arms dangling as he feels the heat rise in his cheeks as their former classmates start to stare.

“I _missed_ you!” Kisumi’s practically squeaking, as if _he’s_ the one having the life squeezed out of him.

“Mm. I gathered,” Haru lifts his head up, holding Kisumi’s gaze for just a second and taking in that never ending smile, and it just takes the smallest step back for him to be completely released. “That was some greeting.”

“Oh you know I didn’t _mean_ to,” Kisumi laughs, probably a bit too confident considering he hasn’t seen Haru in _years_ at this point, but Haru just smirks. It’s probably more out of relief that he’s pretty well hidden from the rest of their group just by Kisumi’s sheer size than anything else, but it does something to Kisumi, flicking this little switch that just makes him _relax_. “But no, Haru, it really is so good to see you!”

He’s still more exuberant than any normal human being, but that’s just Kisumi. This giant bouncing ball of energy and excitement, but in their online conversations he’s so much more _real_ , and Haru can see it now in the way his stance changes and his smile is more natural. He’s not just acting in the wake of his bubbly reputation for Haru, like there’s something that’s clicked between them (besides their teeth) that’s made him even more laid back than he usually is.

“Looks like you get me all night, too!” he bounces on his heels on the last syllable, as if for emphasis, and leans over Haru again to sign his name off. “Do you know if we can check in yet? It’s as near as makes no difference two…”

“I was just about to ask. I need a bath.”

“Long trip, hmm? I think I overheard something about us getting tea and some snacks before the main thing this evening when I was chasing after you. Did you not hear me calling you outside?”

“Uh… no… own little world.”

“You always were. Come on, let’s go and say hi and see what time these snacks are. _Snacks_ , Haru!”

Haru sighs. “Yeah. Alright. Snacks.”

He hovers behind as they approach the group that Haru barely recognises at this point. There’s an air of confusion surrounding them as they look him over, glancing at Kisumi – specifically Kisumi’s hand that’s rubbing little comforting strokes with his thumb on Haru’s shoulder – but the silence is diffused as soon as Kisumi cackles a laugh in his greeting.

“ _Hey!_ Sorry I ran through just now. Chasing after this guy,” he gives a little wink. “I’d do the whole thing of ‘ _it’s so good to see you’_ but were you talking about food?”

The beat of silence while everyone has to tune into Kisumi’s frequency and process his words feels like a decade to Haru, but soon enough everyone’s just absorbed by him. The pink hair probably acts like a magnet for all attention within a certain radius, and Haru can just slink back a step and not even appear all that rude as he just fiddles with the straps of his bag to avoid eye contact.

“– and I think Makoto’s…?” Haru can feel Kisumi looking at him to complete the answer, and it takes him a second to clear his throat and remember how to speak. It’s like giving an interview or an _acceptance_ speech… he struggles with strangers.

“Baby. Too close.”

“ _Baby?!_ ” the gasps echo and Haru should have made up something about the flu instead, because now Kisumi’s force field is down and it’s all eyes on him.

“He’s having a baby. Wife is having a baby. Couldn’t come,” Haru jumbles the words and he knows it.

It takes them even longer to process Haru than it did for Kisumi, and he shifts on the balls of his feet as he waits for _some_ kinda of reaction other than slack jawed confusion. It’s Kisumi to the rescue.

“You were going to show me the scan?” he asks, drawing some of the gaze away from Haru in the process so he can finally move again.

He gets out his wallet where he has the little picture and flashes it up to the whole group. “Girl.”

And that’s apparently satisfied them enough that they move through to the little diner without much ado. The tension is obvious, how they don’t quite know how to treat Haru. How they don’t quite know how to react to what they’ve read, what they’ve seen, and how there are a dozen posters of his face or Rin’s face dotted around just the lobby with excited titles on their _local heroes_.

Kisumi’s arm hooks lazily around his shoulders as they walk. Haru’s too conscious of the old newspaper clipping of Rin kissing him on the Olympic podium to lean into it like he wants.

They sit down at a large, circular table with Haru wedged between Kisumi and a curvy girl he thinks is called Minami and they order several pots of tea and a whole selection of little tasters (none of which include mackerel), and apparently they have to make some pleasant small talk before he can go and pass out for a few hours. Through the double doors off to the side, they can see the function room being prepared by the staff and Haru focuses on them rather than the meaningless talk about _this_ business or _that_ PhD. Haru doesn’t care. He has nothing important to add to the conversation, because of course, they already know what he’s been up to these last few years.

Kisumi’s using his hands far too much for trying to keep one sat around Haru. It’s come around to his turn to update about his life, and Haru tunes in for the little details about the advertising company he’s got in with and anecdotes about his flat mates he doesn’t quite get via instant messaging.

“Still single?” someone asks, and even as Kisumi confirms it he’s leaning heavier on Haru.

“And you?” they’re asking him now. Haru can only nod and hope that’s where it ends.

It does, but only because food has arrived.

There are still little glances exchanged though. Little suspicious smiles thrown his way as Kisumi just casually takes from his plate or puts more on it.

“Can we check in yet?” he asks Kisumi as quietly as he can.

Kisumi rather loudly repeats the question to the group, apparently completely missing Haru’s silent plea for some peace and privacy.

“I guess we’ve all had long trips… a lie down before tonight might be a good idea,” Minami agrees on his other side.

“Mm, and I can claim the best bed!” Haru wants to call this one Nakagawa, but that’s only because he looks similar to someone by that name from his team. But it’ll have to do for now. “I’m sharing with Asahi and Ikuya, according to that list.”

“Oh, well _that_ ’sgonna be fun,” Kisumi laughs. “I just get Haru here. Let me guess, the gay thing?”

The silence is all the answer they need, and Kisumi’s small sigh speaks volumes.

 

Haru huffs his way into the little room and is almost shocked to see two separate beds. He claims the one by the window by throwing his bag on it and Kisumi does the same on his.

“Cosy little thing, isn’t it? Could they _get_ these beds closer together?” Kisumi sidesteps up the narrow space between the beds and sits down, facing Haru.

“You’ve not stayed in the Olympic village… it’s a good thing we were sharing anyway,” Haru grunts.

Kisumi says nothing and Haru is thankful, and they both flop down.

“Should I set an alarm?” Kisumi asks as Haru’s eyes start to close.

“Mm… give me time for a bath.”

He watches Kisumi click around on his phone for a second, and then he sets it aside and settles into the pillow. His eyes are closed but it still feels like he’s looking right through his lids at Haru, and even rolling over doesn’t seem to shake this strange awkwardness that Haru’s accidentally acquired from his anecdotal mention of Rin. Kisumi is shuffling around but Haru stays facing away, feigning sleep, until he hears a groan of wood and a swoosh of fabric, and the bed dips next to him.

“You looked lonely over here by yourself,” Kisumi whispers, not touching but just lying down next to him. “You alright?”

“Hn.”

“Is _Rin_ alright?”

Haru rolls over. “You’ve not spoken to him?”

Kisumi shrugs. “Just the usual small talk. You?”

“Yeah. He’s good. And… _we’re_ good.”

“Oh… not barging into each other’s hotel rooms to rip each other’s balls off, then?”

“No,” Haru snorts. “Suck them, maybe.”

“ _Haru!_ ”

Because Haru’s still the one Rin needs to sleep with on their first night at a new competition venue. Haru’s still the one who needs to stroke his back or comb his hair when he’s withdrawing into fits of nerves. Rin’s still the one who chases Haru into the locker room when he’s overwhelmed by the screaming crowds at his win. And then they hug and they kiss and they cry and they fuck. And then they get back on their separate planes to their separate countries to their separate clubs… only now there’s no guilt.

“We couldn’t hack the distance,” he explains simply, and in sync they both inch over to feel the other’s warmth.

“I always meant to ask… I didn’t believe what the papers said. Just didn’t want to upset either of you.”

“It’s alright,” Haru closes the distance by setting his hand on Kisumi’s hip, and that’s all the hint Kisumi needs to gather him into his chest. 

“But in Rio, when he won your race. And I know it was his only gold but –”

“He deserved it.”

“You won all your others though. Did you really let him win?”

Because of course, according to the papers, there could only be _one_ star of this seemingly abrasive gay swimming couple, and Rin surely could only have scored that gold if his loving partner had thrown him the race, thus setting a-swirl a year’s worth of outlandish articles on cheating and corruption, abuse and control.

“He’d never have forgiven me.”

“Better off as rivals?”

“ _Exactly_.”

At last somebody gets it.

Kisumi is soft in all the ways Haru hadn’t expected. He can feel the chiselled torso and knows he still works out. He can feel the bulk of his biceps, but somehow they seem delicate. His hair tickles and his breath is almost like a giggle on his forehead. Haru’s eyes shut automatically and he feels a set of worry leave him.

“Does this hotel have a pool?”

“Yeah, think it’s round the back.”

“Can we go swimming instead of to this party?”

Kisumi laughs. Haru cracks one eye open in a glare.

“You know it’s not a real reunion party, right?”

Erm. What?

Kisumi’s getting into a full blown giggle seizure now, and Haru pins him onto his back. “Makoto didn’t cave and tell you?!”

“Makoto told me it was a reunion!”

“Oh, Haru… Haru, honey. No. It’s for _you_.”

Him?

“We’re just so _proud_ of you, Haru. And we never got to do anything for you after you did so well in Rio, so this is your send off for Tokyo.”

Haru’s not sure if he wants to kiss him or kill him.

 

 

Haru pants after his third spin around the dance floor, head lolling on Kisumi’s shoulder as he’s still involuntarily swayed by those clingy hands on his waist. The beat is catchy enough, their naptime-turned-make out session earlier has done nothing but leave Haru exhausted and horny, and even the buffet full of mackerel based snacks and pineapple punch isn’t enough to keep him in this hall for any longer.

“Let’s go to _beddd_ ,” he whines, drunk and being purposefully petulant.

“Alright, alright. One more think, ok?”

Haru’s stopped listening at his agreement and just settles his whole body against him for support, like a vertical mattress. Kisumi eases him across the hall, but it’s not the direction of the door…

He pics up the microphone.

“Everyone! Hey! Can we all just have a few minutes? Apparently our favourite Olympian doesn’t have the stamina for an all-nighter, so we’re going up to bed. But I just want to thank Asahi and Ikuya for organising this and how awesome it’s been to see everyone and give Haru all our support. It’s bee –”

Haru snatches it from him. “And Rin’s fine too so you can all stop acting so weird over that.”

He staggers into Kisumi again, arms slipping around his waist and just resting on him, watching their little group smile as they listen to the end of his speech.

“I guess that says it all then. And I think he’s dragging me swimming before breakfast if anyone wants to see him in action.”

The walk to their room is oddly silent, Haru just toying with Kisumi’s hand as he’s lead up the stairs and down the corridors. He sends his clothes flying before the door is even closed, leaving a trail as he makes it to his bed, butt naked, and falls face down onto the quilt.

“Is this why Makoto won’t let you live with him anymore?”

“Something like that,” Haru says into the pillow.

He rolls over as Kisumi gets his clothes off too, pausing just for a second to glance at his bag, hesitating before pulling his boxers off and into the pile. They’re both sweaty and drunk and exhausted, but Haru welcomes him into his bed anyway with his outstretched arm, tugging him down.

Kisumi’s frozen, like all his hugs were trapped in his clothing and now he doesn’t know what to do with his arms. Haru collects himself enough to push him onto his back, head on the pillow, and tucks himself into his side.

“Oh,” Kisumi says, blinking. “I thought… but this is nice too.”

“Hn,” Haru nods, fingers gliding up and down Kisumi’s chest. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part of a little thing I started, kinda like a literary experiment to see how different people take this prompt in different directions. There are two others up by Eristatic and maybeillride, which is on my blog here: http://daxii.tumblr.com/post/120769508243/group-prompt  
> Feel free to join in, just for fun, and get some more love in this KisuHaru tag!   
> Mine was honestly not what I set off intending it to be, but I guess that's half the fun.


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